He was Scottish. The pure velvet of his accent, combined with the deep, melodious timbre sent her nerves into utter chaos. “I, uh, well…” she cl...osed her eyes for a moment, and pushed a breath out, stealing herself to look at the guy and speak as if an intelligent person. When she open her eyes, her mind went completely blank again, “Oh, my Holy God.” “I’m sorry?” He is so gorgeous! she thought to herself. All that untidy black hair scraped back into a short queue, and his green eyes. ? *CRACK* *CRACK*She gave me two quick hits with the cane before even finishing her sentence. Even though I was trying my best to obey Mistress and suppress my emotions, I just could not stop myself from crying like a baby.*CRACK*She waited for a moment. Never mind all those previous acts of love and affection that she showed me, Mistress was clearly enjoying what she’s doing to me now. She was slow, calculated, and very accurate with the cane. She would coolly stare me in the eyes after each. Everything hurt.It was only a week after my punishment that I was expected to go back to the black club for the formal initiation that would make a white sex slave of me. I was to be owned by the black man called Robert. His plan was to breed me as many times as he could; my womb would belong to him.I also knew that my initiation would involve me being tattooed and collared to show the world that I was black owned.Dean was excited to see me given up to be a black man’s sex slave. He. She still has some of the nicest qualities a woman could ever have in that her boobies get him turned on and I have he had fulltime access to her boobs if he wanted them, didn’t he? He looked at her. She was smiling. He then asked “Uhhh mom, I mean uhhh should I call you mom or should I call you Cynthia?” he asked her. She smiled and told him to call her what he felt more comfortable calling her. “Well I personally like mom,” he told her. “You don’t mind, do you…mom?” “Not at all honey,” she.